The Way of the Agent
by Musingsage
Summary: In the aftermath of SHIELD's fall, no matter how hard things get Phil Coulson must remain strong, his support goes beyond his growing team, to the Avengers, and some Nation. He needs them, and they need him, but they have their own obstacles and personal missions that they can't give up.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: So, this is a rewrite of an earlier story: The Hunt for HYDRA and has the same general purpose and plot but with a few important changes. Because of the nature of the story, depending on the chapter I may change the categories between Hetalia, Agents of SHIELD and Avengers. If you can't find it where you think it in one, check the others. A general Marvel Cinematic Universe category would make things so much simpler.

This story takes place post-Reunion (obviously). It's not necessary to read Reunion to understand this one. It is necessary however, to understand Hetalia or at least grasp the concept behind it.

Disclaimer: I own neither

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After the attack on Nick Fury the President insisted America stay in the White House, keeping her safe and protecting her from possible HYDRA threats. Lounging on the bed in the room she always stayed in, she regretted telling Fury that HYDRA knew her identity. Of course Fury told the President, perhaps also Steve and Natasha. Natasha probably suspected even if no one had told her. Unfortunately, getting stuck in the White House meant she couldn't help Steve, Phil, Fury or anyone else. Sitting there drove her crazy.

Something flickered.

Lurching up right she slammed her eyes shut to focus. Deep in her mind, in the part that linked her to her citizens, she sensed something odd. The presence felt familiar, like a friend lost and found. Only, she couldn't put a face or name to the presence, nothing like this happened before. If someone fell into a coma she still felt them, even when Steve froze she felt him, a constant reassuring presence at the back of her mind.

This… it reminded her of an agent who defected to an enemy but considered returning. The presence strengthened then vanished—nothing like a defector who considered coming home. No, no this was something else. Something different…

Mulling it over she tried to puzzle out who it might be. Who could…

James Buchanan Barnes.

Brilliant blue eyes snapped out as the realization struck her. Now it all made sense, she knew Barnes survived the fall by some miracle; she also knew he lived for weeks before his presence vanished. It disappeared the moment she planned to send out the Commandos on a rescue mission based on evidence she manufactured. Strangely, it lacked the same feeling as a death or defection. Even when people defected their impression lingered in her mind for decades. This was something else, like someone stole him from her. With two wars to finish she required more time that anyone could spare her. After the war so much else necessitated her attention and people briefed her on fifty new things a day.

She hadn't had the time to pursue the feeling. By the time she had the time it had been so long she couldn't find it. Similar situations kept her from seeking out Steve. But she had known he would reappear decades later.

Rather than wait out events, she accepted where they were heading though it drove a stake through her heart, America snuck out of the White House. She dropped a note on the President's desk explaining what she could without risking her plan. Appearing that afternoon on Canada's door step in Toronto, the twins set out an hour later to make a move before HYDRA had the chance. Neither said anything, silent signals filled the need for speech.

Guilt weighed heavily upon her, and he knew better than to talk to her about it until days later. Those days later they had robbed the Fridge with an enchanted bag, entering through a secret door; hours before HYDRA showed up. America took satisfaction in leaving a note tapped to the front door:

Better luck next time kiddies.—A

She sent the personnel to a secret base in the Rockies, ordering them wait there for further instructions. Three months ago Fury informed her about his suspicions, detailing a contingency plan in case their nightmares bled into reality. Of course, he only entrusted her with the plan. A key part of the plan required appointing Phil Coulson the new Director and having him restart the agency.

Besides, while America liked Maria Hill, she trusted Phil Coulson infinitely more. Before depositing the bag somewhere safe, America intended to confront Coulson, get him up to speed, and give him a more explicit set of instructions.

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Aside from rebuilding SHIELD, Phil Coulson struggled to work out what to do with his team. Since finding the Playground and learning Fury's instructions, his team buzzed about on a new jolt of energy. Finding a way to save Fitz occupied Jemma most days, leaving her little time to deal with other projects and missions that required their attention. Without Fitz and Stark Coulson prioritized finding someone else to develop tech and equipment to they could stay one step ahead of HYDRA. In the computer lab Skype spent most nights pouring over data and whatever else she stole from HYDRA.

Perhaps he should contact Stark and let him know he survived the impossible. It would enable him to work with the Avengers and avail them of SI's immense resources and technology. If he did Maria Hill might wish to return; Phil hoped she would one day. With Hand dead Phil needed a second in command, right now he leaned on May. Hawkeye and Black Widow might return to SHIELD as well, though after everything they might not want too. While he liked the idea of Captain America returning too, he was too honest for a major role in a clandestine agency. Phil had to admit to himself that his childhood hero didn't fit. Then again if he did it would destroy everything Phil believed in as a child.

One thing bugged him.

If HYDRA robbed the Fridge, then why hadn't they seen some of the tech or that staff when they confronted? Nothing Ward said implied someone beat HYDRA to the Fridge, or that they found it empty.

That someone else beat HYDRA there terrified Phil. Who else had the resources to do something like that so quickly?

Only AIM and Stark came to mind when Phil mulled it over. No one else, perhaps the CIA or MI5, or even a Chinese group, but that stretched probability, even heard of it until someone robbed it.

An item in his new office lit up, a set of coordinates which he assumed Fury sent. What could the Dir…Fury want now? Why cover it up like this? A message appeared below it: Come alone.

Confused though he was, Coulson noted the coordinates, time and date down. While he planned to have May and Trip nearby, he realized whoever sent the message had access to the Playground before, and that Fury trusted them. That narrowed the list considerably, but none of them fit. No, it had to be someone else, a new player.

Or perhaps an old one getting back into the game.

If turned out to be the ghost of George Washington he vowed to retire to somewhere quiet where 'strange' meant the mailman arriving a minute late.

Just before dawn, Coulson arrived at the spot—a bench under a willow tree on a river bank. Whoever picked the spot they had an eye for classy locations. He arrived early to stake out the location and check for traps. As a SHEILD agent, he created plenty of enemies over the years. Because of how he received the message he doubted an enemy sent it, but it caution paid dividends.

Shortly afterwards he spotted someone out for a run. A young blond woman, no more than twenty, jogged down the path. From behind a tree he studied her; she might be the contact, she might be a casual jogger. If she was the contact he assumed someone else sent her as a proxy. Young people, especially women, tended to be over looked more easily than a man of any age. Maybe Fury sent her; it fit his personality to arrange something like this. Besides what could a twenty year old want with him?

The young woman slowed when she reached the willow tree, breath not showing any hint of exhaustion. Something about her looked familiar. The woman exercised often, keeping herself fit beyond the normal level. A head band kept shoulder length blond hair out her blue eyes, which hid behind square rimmed glasses. Despite the ear buds in her year, and the iPod strapped to her right arm, Coulson suspected she listened to nothing and instead let them generate the impression of unawareness. Another method of getting people to ignore her he acknowledged.

"Agent Coulson, good morning," She greeted him, her voice crisp and clear. Eyes bluer than the sky settled in his direction behind the tree.

Stepping out from behind the tree, "Good morning, Ms. Jones, I must say you haven't aged a day."

Up close he recognized her. From 2001 to 2004 he served as SHIELD's liaison with the White House under the guise of an FBI Special Agent named Michael Casper. All three years he spotted her near the Oval Office and in the White House, usually with an exasperated Secret Service Agent in tow. No one explained who she was other than 'Amelia Jones' and that she was some kind of Presidential assistant. Eventually he asked Fury for information, but Fury denied him, saying it was above his pay grade and that his pay grade entitled to know nothing more.

She held out a hand, "It's good to see you again Phil." Motioning to the bench she added, "Sit, we have a lot to discuss."

Cautious, but curious he joined her on the bench, "What could we have to discuss?"

"The future SHIELD."

"SHEILD no longer exists."

She snorted, "Please, we both know that's not true." From the moment she appeared he assumed the President sent her, maybe the CIA director, or Deputy Director Holmes who ran everything in that agency.

The ensuing silence prompted her to continue, "Fury told me everything before he disappeared."

"Who are you really?" She laughed, "Amelia Frances Jones, who else would I be?"

"I don't know what game you or your superior are playing, but if you've got something to say then say it."

"I don't have a superior, I have a boss. Actually, I've got three hundred million of those." What on earth? "I don't understand." Turning to face him she replied, "I am the personification of the United States of America."

He began to protest, to declare the notion ridiculous, then he took a second look in her eyes. The blue pigment abandoned its guard post to reveal a whole world with her eyes. In an infinite moment he watched U.S history play out; her pain at the death of everyone who fought in her name; the great sorrows of her life, along with the joy whizzed past. The parade of images ended when she glanced away. In struggling what to say, he said nothing instead leaving his expression and silence to speak for him and convey his emotions.

Seconds morphed into minutes, perhaps half hour passed by before he broke the silence.

"What do you need?" Nothing could make him deny her whatever she came to request. Now everything about her made sense, and he understood her a whole lot better. What he believed in, the hopes and dreams of three hundred million people lived within her. Now he understood why Rogers accepted a position as a Secret Service Agent after the Battle of New York. He was protecting her while he adjusted.

"I need you to hunt Hydra."

Something he expected her to request, "We're working out a plan."

"Good. The contents of the Fridge are safe."

"How do you know?"

A small smile quirked her lips, "I and friend emptied it out hours before HYDRA showed up. Afterwards I sent all of the Agents stationed there to a base in the Rockies; they're awaiting your instructions."

He frowned, "Can they be trusted?"

"Yes."

"I have to ask, why us?"

"Because destroying SHEILD might have been a grand gesture, but Hydra won't be taken down that easily. I'd hunt them myself, but I'm tied down to the capital. You'll only have the backup you create yourself. No one will be able to help you. I'll do what I can, but that will be limited as is. You'll answer to me alone, no one else will know about your operations." Gently she took his hand and wrote a number on his palm. "That's the number you'll be able to reach me at." A genuine smile graced her face, "If you need anything ask. Oh, and contact Tony. He keeps asking when you'll call."

Though he knew how silly he looked with his jaw hanging open, he couldn't bring himself to close it. "How…when…" She laughed, "I told him and the others. Fury doesn't know. Tony hates not contacting you, but he enjoys knowing something Fury doesn't want him too. Steve's not too happy about it either, but he follows orders."

Somehow Phil figured his life would get stranger now he knew her identity.

She stood up, "Call me when you have a plan. Or call Tony, then they'll tell me."

"Just one question…"

"One?" she raised an eyebrow and Phil saw the woman events shaped her into. She reminded him of his mother, but he assumed that had to do with being a Nation.

"For now," he chuckled. "Where did you put the contents of the Fridge?"

A mischievous smile gave her a look that reminded him of Loki, "Safe, with a little birdie."

Without another word she jogged off. As her silhouette dwindled, she turned a corner and disappeared from sight. Of course he would take this to his team, but leave out her identity. She offered them a support network, help, but he wondered what price she would exact. Shaking his head he wondered if she was any good with technology. Perhaps she could create their tech; he wouldn't have to worry about her turning on them.

A furious May greeted him at the door to the Playground, scolding him for leaving without letting anyone know.

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A/N: I think the action will pick up quickly, but you'll have to wait and see. For those who are interested, Clark Cregg appeared on The West Wing as FBI Special Agent Michael Casper, he was President Bartlett's goto FBI guy, and because I'm using West Wing characters in other stories related to this one, and because Coulson's Coulson, it doesn't seem like that great a stretch.


	2. Clear and Present Danger

A/N: Yeah, yeah I know, AOS is moving along, I'm keeping up with it.

Disclaimer: probably one in chapter 1

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April 7th, 2014

"Mind telling me why you left the base when HYDRA wants your head on a platter?" Melinda May dragged him into his office.

For as long as he'd known her it took a lot to unsettle May, with their reality shattered everyone sought reassurance however they could. Losing the agency they believed in to their worst enemy, nearly getting killed, discovering a friend spied on them for said enemy, and narrowly defeating them would knock anyone on their ass. It felt like a life time ago when Phil could relax and trust his superiors to handle some things, only sending him in when necessary. Over the years he worked for SHIELD he saved countless lives, sometimes agents, but more often civilians. How many died because no one noticed HYDRA sooner? Realizing they failed before may have wounded his self assurance, but his determination rose everyday. He figured that since he channeled his anger into his work, America would too. During his years at the White House he observed her, trying to work out what Fury hid from him, to learn who she really was. That poor young Nation, no wonder she reacted by robbing the Fridge.

"May, it's okay. A friend wanted to meet."

"Your friends think you dead Phil."

He smiled, "Not Amelia."

"Who the hell is that?"

Not everyone met America; fewer still remembered the encounter without prompting. "Amelia F. Jones, the person Rogers left for a year to look after." Before May could snap something in reply, he pressed on, "She's the personification of the United States of America."

Naturally May leveled a vexed look at him, of course she didn't believe him, she hadn't met America. "If you're having metal issues you need to inform Simmons."

"I'm not making this up."

Perhaps America had perfect timing, the item that she sent the coordinates through before, a wall clock, lit up with a fresh set of coordinates and a message: Those agents I told you about. Without a word to an irate May he jotted them down.

"What's going on Phil? Who sent that?"

"America, Amelia's her human name," he met her skeptical gaze. "She and Canada beat HYDRA to the Fridge, cleaned it out, and sent the Agents there somewhere safe." He waved the coordinates at her, "this is where they are."

"Are you sure you can trust her?"

Phil understood her skepticism and appreciated her concern, but he needed her to trust him. "She's our country; if we can't trust her then we can't trust anyone."

Thankfully she relented, taking the note. "Fine. I'll take Trip and check this out. If this turns into a trap we're going to have a talk." On her way out she looked back at him, "Our country or not, she'll have a secret agenda if she has any sense."

"That's not her style."

"Doubtful. Whatever she promised, just be careful."

No matter what happened, he could rely on May to keep grounded; he could rely on her healthy level of skepticism. Without her he couldn't manage, he needed her to be there when his emotions took over, to help him see what he missed. Phil accepted that he was an idealist, but that didn't mean he failed to understand how the world worked; he understood perfectly, he just wished it worked differently. In that way he had a lot in common with Josh Lyman. Who, just maybe, he should call; Josh had access to budgets and everything that crossed the President's desk. He should contact Stark too; surely he knew America, and she would tell him, perhaps she already had. May would say contacting Stark possessed to great a risk, that the less who knew where to find them the better. Though she wouldn't oppose Natasha finding out; in fact she and Barton might be inclined to work with him.

September 28th, 2014

Things happened fast these days. Yesterday a suspect HYDRA base in Houston exploded, leaving nothing in tact and no one alive, and freeing up what few Agents Phil had working for him. He supposed he had the Winter Soldier to thank for it, well, it and other probably HYDRA bases across the USA that meet various ends; he suspected Barnes also killed various HYDRA agents and scientists between each location. When someone turned up tortured and raving about a masked mad man, Phil assumed Barnes visited them. That some of them could complain said he was improving; the first dozen or so had been unrecognizable. Which likely reassured Steve Rogers; Tony Stark refused to believe that the man who murdered his parents was redeemable. The last he heard Bruce Banner, Thor and Sam Wilson broke up an argument over Barnes' well being.

More immediately they needed information on the Obelisk, and those bases Barnes destroyed possible held answers. Nothing Skye turned up, or the files they found revealed anything about it, it's properties, how it worked; what they knew came from observation, and they needed more than that.

Two months ago Phil promised Rogers that he would limit America's involvement. A two month disappearing act forced the President to lock her in the White House; it distracted Rogers from searching for Barnes; they both worried about her, and realized that if Phil asked for help, then she's involve herself past their comfort level. He worried about her getting hurt because they didn't pull her back, so he promised Rogers. Not that she tolerated their concerns, acknowledged them yes, but not tolerate. When they explained the difficulties she was causing, she backed off and stuck to delving through any files she thought might prove useful. It helped that Natasha and Clint contacted him and accepted several short term assignments, but remained close to New York during their down time, near Stark, Banner and Thor. Since he only needed information, he called America.

"Sup Boss Man?" America chirped into the phone, pausing a moment before beating Phil to speaking, "yeah sure. India and Brazil are bickering about something; I can leave for a min."

"This is clearly a bad time, I'll call back," Phil began, but America cut him off, laughing at some joke he hadn't told. For a minute she rambled on about random things, probably looking for a private place to talk to him.

"What'd ya need Director?"

"Information, what do you know about the first 084?"

"Not much," she sighed, "Peggy and the Commandos sealed it before I could get a look, and Howard never touched it. With the war and everything else I kinda forgot it existed, so did everyone else I guess; Peggy never mentioned it to me, and she told me just 'bout everything. After…you know…I kept track of things not in the Fridge, it's under Talbot's watch at Fort Eisenhower…I could ask Prussia if he knows anything, he was more involved in that stuff during the war."

That tidbit worried him, Phil knew that she considered Prussia a friend, and one of the few Nations willing to help her gather information human spies couldn't touch. While he appreciated the information, which saved a couple lives over the last few months, the link to Prussia handed HYDRA a means to track them down. Sure, he doubted Prussia would turn against them, but HYDRA could identify him, and probably spied on him. Unfortunately time constraints menat he had to leave it for later. "Know anything about a Carl Creel that's not in his file?"

"No. I've got nothing beyond he's American and he's alive."

"You can't locate him?"

"Naw, I can't locate anyone other than Steve." That was unexpected. Although he understood the idea behind Nations he realized she might have miss understood him, which meant she revealed something unanticipated. Maybe his imagination was running away with him, and she only kept watch on Rogers. Though, if because of some Nation thing she could locate Rogers when no one else could, then why leave him in the ice for decades? No, no, he couldn't jump to conclusions, he needed to stay focused. Resisting the urge to ask, Phil frowned, "The government doesn't know anything?"

"Course not, if Old SHIELD wanted someone to disappear than the other agencies wouldn't be able to find them. Old SHIELD was the best at that…don't be like them. Be better."

"We'll do our best ma'am."

When she started laughing, he smiled. "I always liked you Phil." "How did you know which Carl Creel I meant?"

"Nation intuition," she paused, speaking to someone who knocked on the door. "Yeah, yeah, my Boss just needed something. I'll be back in a sec. Don't look at me like that Iggy, it's not like it's SHIELD." The door shut, "Sorry 'bout that Phil, I gotta go. I'll call when I've got something."

There lay another issue with her helping him, stemming from her variety of responsibilities; she dealt with domestic and international issues daily, more so than any member of the executive office. "Thanks Meri, and stay out of trouble."

She laughed, "No promises, but I'll try just for you."

Three days later a memory stick appeared on his office windowsill; he suspected birds dropped it off or something. Everything inside about the Obelisk matched what they knew, but she attached a file in what Phil assumed as an alien language. Beyond that he found files on HYDRA agents he asked about, and what little she found on Whitehall, and a file that read 'For Cap' containing information about what HYDRA did to Barnes.

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Oct 28th, 2014

"Sir, sir please," America struggled against the Compulsion that forced her to follow the Secret Service Agents quietly. Underneath the fluid movement of her feet, she screamed and fought. That Santos hadn't ever been that popular, winning both elections by a narrow margin meant that she might break through. She didn't have to listen to an unpopular president, well she did, but she had more room to fight. A popular president…she jumped do follow their orders and never thought about it until later.

The Compulsion was the one thing she loathed about her existence. "Sir, they're no threat to me," she turned her head to look at him; "the Director wouldn't hurt me."

"It's not him I'm worried about," Santos strolled along beside her, "The last time something like this happened you vanished, and turned up in Chile after a stop in, what, twenty other countries?"

"Boss…it wasn't SHIELD."

The first Latin American President opened the door to her White House Suit, "I don't care. You're not doing that again. As President of the United States, the elected representative of your people, I hereby order you to stay in this suit and to no leave without a guard I approved. Get in and not a word."

Attempting to break the Compulsion gained her nothing, only building up barely contained energy. Despite her best efforts her feet took her in; the door shut behind her and she heard Santos lock the door, a pointless gesture, which he knew. Once it shut she spun, arms flailing, legs kicking, and hands forming fists and relaxing, she screamed in frustration and waited out the energy release. Nationhood sucked. During the last spin she shattered a floor length mirror, glass cutting into her hand. A remarkable number of curse words tumbled from her mouth as she stalked over to the bathroom to remove the glass and bandage the injury. No one checked on her, it wasn't the first time this happened; in fact a mirror always sat there, perfectly position for her to break in the exact scenario from moments before. Goddamnit she hated the compulsion and losing control over herself, previous president used it and left her with horrid memories that disturbed her sleep nearly two hundred years later.

"C'mon girl," she whispered, "you're in control."

Santos took exception to her disappearing act, which in her defense she left a note on her kitchen table. Actually, she left several notes, and she was sure someone delivered the right one to Santos, sure it'd been vague, but she hadn't known which Nations to visit, she had jumped around on instinct. Though, breaking down Russia's door had been personal, plus it helped Natasha attain the information Steve wanted about Barnes. Giving Russia a black eye had helped relieve some anger, but the Nation she longed to throttle never physically existed.

Whatever drove the President to lock her, it in kept her from feeding Coulson information he needed, and she almost uncovered something important about the Obelisk. She wanted to leave, to disappear again, but she couldn't without facing penalties for disobedience. Damn Santos for not specifying how she could leave. Nixon once told her she couldn't leave through the door, so she jumped out the window. Still, she was damned clever, skilled and capable. Locking her up anywhere never guaranteed anything. From one room she'd done a hell of a lot in the past, so she could again with the right tools and equipment. Unless Santos wanted something or someone dropped off food she wouldn't be bothered for a long, long time.

A small grin broke out, she had unlimited time to do things, no paper work, no phone calls, none of that office stuff she despised. Besides, she owed Tony Stark a phone call. What Matthew called 'paranoid' Amelia thought of as 'practical,' and considering the President locked her in this room, stashing a laptop and phone under the floorboards under the bed counted as 'practical'. A bright, shiny, specially made laptop, Tony designed it himself, and Alien Tony added a few modifications. Apparently people named 'Tony' loved technology. Before Tony and Tony's competition alternatively amused and annoyed her; for once it worked in her favor.

Several hours later she waited impatiently for Matthew answer his phone. If he was watching some hockey match? What if he was watching hockey with Finland? Oh, god what if he was watching hockey with Netherlands and eating waffles off...? No, no, she banished that image before it fully formed; while other disturbing ideas could invade her mind, she shouldn't invite them.

"Williams."

"About time bro, trying to move Kumajiro again?" Usually she meant things like that as a joke, but her ire destroyed any attempt at levity.

Since when had she grown so serious? This was a new development. That idea, more than perveted things involving Matthew and Netherlands and waffles, or England and France doing...anything romantic (read: sexual), unsettled her.

She knew Matthew was frowning when he replied, "What's wrong? What happened? Is this about the SHIELD…"

"It wasn't SHIELD, Mattie."

"I know that's what you think…"

That ire rose again, "it's what I _know_."

"Amy, please…"

"No, you don't get to do this; I've had enough of people undermining me. Everyone has some damned suggestion, something they want me to do, England tried ordering me to leave it alone. No, don't you dare think you understand, don't pretend you've experienced building something good, flawed perhaps, but good, and learning it's rotted out by the thing you built it to protect against. None of you have lost what I've lost, experienced the pain and hardship. You don't understand it, and you don't know me either. Now, help me or I'll manage alone."

Saying that improved her mood immeasurably, that she vented at her twin brother didn't bother her like it might have. After three years of secrets getting out, of the suspicious stares from once trusted allies, keeping it in slowly ate away at her, poisoning her. Funny, the fall of SHIELD unleashed a change in her, a more open stance than she'd had in a long, long time. Perhaps she needed to stop keeping so many secrets, to speak bluntly again.

For a while neither said anything, and she prepared to hang up, to forget him helping her. Months of this, of strong and true allies unwilling to aid her, of friends and family turning her requests away and never giving a good reason forced her to question her relationships. Japan's refusal shattered their relationship, leaving her floundering and confused. Of all Nations he thought he'd understand and help her, or not understand and help her because he loved her, but she'd been so very wrong. The same applied to Australia, New Zealand, Scotland, Denmark, Spain, Finland, Chile, Liberia, Philippines, to name a few family, friends, all whom she'd helped in the past but rebuffed her now. Each rejection marked her increasing isolation. Perhaps she should disengage from the world again, let them sort out their own problems. More and more she weighted the benefits and the downsides, trying to determine her best course of action. Everything she'd done, the blood on her hands, meant nothing to them, though now they could see for themselves what she'd hidden from them. Attempt assassinations, coups, corporations intending to drain a country dry, AIM, Ten Rings Black Specter, Brotherhood of Mutants, Roxxon, U.L.T.I.M.A.T.U.M, and the Zodiac Cartel. All organizations her people fought, and who SHIELD recruited people to defeat. The Arab Nations owed her for handling Roxxon, as did Venezuela. Yet, no one offered her help now. At least isolation meant no one could snub her.

"I'm sorry," Matthew whispered his voice softer than normal. "I…If you call me daily, and don't lock me out, I'll help you."

Her voice locked up, relief shattering her control as tears formed. She always had Matthew, her twin and best friend, the only one who tried to share her burden.

"What do you need?"

She told him, not everything, but more than he needed to do what she asked. Later, not now but definitely later, she would work on telling him everything; realization of her hypocrisy almost had her laughing hysterically. Nat would be amused.

"Stay safe sis."

"Back at ya."

Nov 2, 2014

Following America's directions, Canada knew the moment SHIELD detected his proximity, not because of some sixth sense, he observed and noticed slight changes in the building and various well hidden security cameras and motion sensors. It didn't surprise him when a man appeared in front of him with a loaded gun.

"Who are you and what do you want?" The man, likely a specialist, kept his posture relaxed and unthreatening, but ready for whatever Canada threw at him.

Well, he thought he was, but the man didn't know about Nations. "Matthew Williams," Canada remained still, trying and succeeding to look unthreatening. "I need to speak with Director Coulson…tell him… tell him the Official sent me." Why Coulson referred to America as 'the Official' made sense, but he found it hysterical and told Amy so.

The answer surprised the man, "the Official? Why?" He paused, "let's go inside. I'll get the Director." When Matthew approached he held out his hand, "Agent Triplett, how do you know the Official?"

"She's my sister."

A few more questions passed before they reached Coulson's office, "Sir? The Official's brother's here to see you."

When Matthew first heard about Coulson assuming the Directorship he assumed he would be an intimidating man like Fury, maybe with a missing limb or ear or something. Instead he found an unassuming white guy who wouldn't look out place teaching first graders. "Director, it's a pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure's mine. How's your sister? I haven't heard from here in several days." Coulson shut the door and motioned towards one of the chairs.

"She's locked up in the White House. Santos won't let her leave."

"You're kidding, how can he do that?" Matthew sighed, "A Boss can order us around for things like that. It's really bad when they're popular, then we're at their mercy." Since Meri trusted him, he supposed he could to.

"Won't it depend on what they order?"

"Sometimes; I'm Canada by the way."

Across the desk Coulson nodded, "You're accent gave you away. Well, that and I figured she'd only send someone she trusted implicitly, and she wouldn't send Cap, leaving only family. Since I'm certain you don't have a lot of time, what brings you here? I can't imagine you jumped at the chance to come here."

Entirely true he acknowledged, "It keeps her from taking risks. You do what you can for family, eh?"

"Of course." From his pocket jacket pocket Canada pulled out a string of memory sticks. "These have got data about HYDRA."

Accepting them, Coulson counted them, "These'll be invaluable. How'd you get them? Please tell me Meri didn't…"

"No, she said a source of Agent Romanov's dropped them off, and asked me to collect them."

Naturally Coulson next asked for the source's name, which no one told him, so he couldn't tell the Director. However, Meri's comment about giving Captain America good news implied that Barnes grabbed them as he left a bloody swath across the continent, including Canada's own territory. Thankfully the next time he turned up, he was in St. Petersburg, or Berlin, or countless other places in Europe, but at least he wasn't in North America anymore. All of which he told Coulson; Canada meant what he said to America about not keeping secrets, and he planned to ensure she and Coulson properly communicated.

(~)_(~)_(~)_(~)_(~)_(~)_(~)_(~)_(~)_(~)_(~)_(~)_(~)_(~)_(~)_(~)_(~)_(~)_(~)_(~)_(~)_(~)_(~)_(~)_(~)

Stepping out of Frankfurt International Airport, Sam Wilson waved down a taxi. "You speak German right?"

Beside him Steve Rogers nodded, "More or less, but I don't think we're going to need the words for machine gun or military base."

"Unless he's headed to one. You think the intel is accurate?"

"I hope so."

* * *

A/N: It's been a busy summer for them huh? If you want to know how their adventures went, I could be persuaded to write something. I'm not sure about some of the dialogue, and if I have the characters right, any thought? And yes, the next chapter will focus on Steve and Sam, maybe hear from Clint and Natasha. Questions? Comments? People out of character? Complaints?

Reviews are always helpful and appreciated.


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